If They Only Knew
by APenAway
Summary: Caroline Forbes can't stand the fact that she has feelings for Klaus. Though she tries to deny it, the flush that stains her cheeks when he touches her is enough to give her away. She isn't strong enough to fight the pull that drags her towards him. If her friends only knew the person who occupied her thoughts more often than not... Told From Klaus P.O.V
1. Chapter 1

One

* * *

I'm aware of her presence before she even opens her mouth. The smell of lilacs with a hint of freesia floats through the air and wafts over to where I sit on the black leather couch, at the opposite side of the room.

I can tell by the way that she drums her fingers against the thick denim cloaking her thighs that she's annoyed. One of the perks of being an Original vampire – your hearing is super human.

I shift my weight throwing my feet on top of the bronze coffee table in front of me. I'd like to say that the antique mahogany table is a family heirloom, but it wasn't handed down. The beautiful brushed edges and Aztec carvings on the legs are a result of artisans from the 12th century. I acquired it from an old merchant with an appetite for fine jewelry. When I met him it just so happened I had a large amount of royal gems stuffed into my pockets. The table is one of the few pieces of furniture that managed to survive the centuries of running, hiding and turmoil.

My ears perk up at the sound of leather sweeping against the polished oak flooring.

"Do take your shoes off, love. The floors were just treated."

Her annoyance becomes audible, escaping from her lips in a rush of blown air. "I'm not here to play with you, Klaus."

A smile spreads across my lips, raising my cheeks. I'm glad she can't see the effect the frustration in her voice has on me.

"Then what are you here for?" I turn my head to peek over the couch in her direction. I feel my pulse pick up as soon as I spot her and urge it to settle before she notices the change in my demeanour.

There she stands, her arms crossed and nestled against her chest with her hips slanted to one side. Her long golden tresses drape languidly against the lapel of the deep red, silk blouse she wears. Her pale blue eyes glare at me under long golden lashes. Her smolder is so enticing, I fight the urge to rush over and tease a kiss out of her pink lips.

"Is your cell phone broken?"

I glance over at the delicate aluminum cell lying to the left side of the table. A loud and clearly distinct 'PING' emanates from the sleek white shell.

"Well, I guess that sound answers your question," I tell her.

She closes the gap between us, standing directly in front of me. The only thing that separates us is the cushioned back rest of the couch.

"You know you should have met up with Stefan and Damon to talk about Silas situation an hour ago."

"I know nothing of the sort, sweetheart. Silas is no business of mine," I turn my head away from her and slide down into my seat, picking up the Dickens' novel I was skimming through before she interrupted my day of leisure.

"No business of yours," she enunciates each word vehemently.

"It's no business of yours whether a handful of angry demons come back into this world to kill thousands of innocent people? You know some of those spirits don't hold a very high opinion of you right, like your brothers."

I bite my cheek, trying to rid myself of the guilty feeling that unexpectedly creeps up on me. Two of my brothers are dead. Do I feel like it was my fault? Well, I did have a stake impaled in their chests for a large part of their lives. Can't say I really did my best to extend a helping hand.

"Another one of those people would be good ol' Mikael. You know, the father you spent most of your life outrunning," her voice is sharp with sarcasm looking to draw blood.

"Not to mention all of your hybrid buddies that you slaughtered. I'm sure they'd be pleased to see you again, especially with all that Tyler taught them."

"Enough Caroline," my fingers tightly curve around the cover of the book as I fight to keep my voice level.

Tyler, my blood still boils at the sound of his name even after three months. After all I did for him, breaking the leash the moon coiled around his neck; giving him the freedom to lead a life free of the bone breaking transformation that had him fearing the monthly cycle of the nightly orb. And how did he repay me? He created an army of unruly hybrids eager to rip my limbs from their sockets when he should have thanked me with a lifetime of servitude or, at the very least, an elaborate fruit basket.

I promised to strangle the light from his eyes. I've just been a little too preoccupied to follow-up on my promise. What with all the family quarrels and reveal of a centuries old beast from the dank depths of the darkest crevice.

Caroline refuses to heed my warning. She continues to burden me with trivial statements about the traitor's whereabouts. "And you've chased him off to who knows where so you can sit here on your ass reading books without a care in the world. You're such a coward Klaus! If you were half the man Tyler is..."

"Caroline stop," I tell her, my voice rises a bit and I find myself getting to my feet.

"That's why you chased him off isn't it? Not because he gave your hybrids a purpose, but because he was a better leader than you could ever be..."

"Don't!" My hand throws the book roughly on the couch and it bounces off to the floor splayed open.

She fuels her next statement with as much contempt as she can muster, "You couldn't bear that your cruel, unfeeling nature became the thing to undo you!"

Her words incite a rage that is so blinding that I cannot even hope of containing it. My fury about Tyler's betrayal gets the better of me and I charge towards Caroline, coming face to face with her while my hands wrap around her neck.

Her nails dig into my flesh trying to get me to loosen my grip. For a minute all I see are angry flashes of failure clouding my vision: my failure to protect my family; my failure to keep anyone close to me, even by force. When my vision clears I see her. Her light blue eyes are largely expressive with fear.

My anger subsides as I stare deeply into her eyes that eagerly scan my face, wondering what I will do with her. I'm disgusted with myself, the last thing I want to do is hurt her like I did before when I was trying to prove a point to Tyler at the Gilbert house.

My hands recoil as if vervaine was poured all over them and I turn my head away from her. "I'm sorry..." I mumble and I walk towards the marble fireplace.

"I didn't mean to..." the words taste like lead.

If I wanted I could stop feeling all these pent-up emotions waiting to pour out of me like a violent storm. I could just shut it off. But I've done that for so long...I don't even know how to control them anymore.

I'm afraid to look at Caroline. To see the disgust etched on her face and know that I've pushed her even further away.

We stand in silence for a long time. I have my back to her, tracing the cool surface of the marble tile with my index finger. She stands a few feet away from me, her eyes boring a hole into my back.

"I didn't..." her voice is a little raspy, but there isn't any anger in her words. "I didn't expect you to do that."

I place my hands to my face hiding my shame. "You've known me to do worse, Caroline."

"No," I hear her take a step in my direction, "to apologize."

I stop rubbing my hands against my temples as she says this.

"I mean, every time I think I have you figured out..." she leans against the couch. "I expect it when you're a heartless jerk. Not caring who you have to crush or kill to get whatever you want. You take without thinking about the consequences. So when you rushed at me, I can't say it was surprising. But I didn't expect to see the sheer disappointment in your eyes. Or hear the heartfelt remorse in your voice," she lets out a deep sigh.

I turn towards her, studying the blond-haired girl two feet away from me. Her eyes are downcast and her arms wrap around herself like she's trying to hold something in.

"What is it about me, Klaus?" All the fight has gone out of her voice.

"What do you mean, Caroline?" My eyebrows lift curiously as I watch her. She refuses to meet my gaze. I hear the change in her breathing; the air comes to her lungs in short breaths.

"What makes you want to protect me, when your instincts tell you to cause me pain? Why do you go out of your way to get close to me?

"Caroline...I don't want to talk about this." I don't want to get into another quarrel with her and I don't feel like hearing how much of a fool I am for letting her affect me in a way I haven't felt in years.

"I need to talk about it Klaus," she looks up at me with pleading eyes. "I need to make sense of this. The way you feel...the way I feel."

My breath catches, "The way you feel?" I ask her.

Before she has time to hide it, her eyes show her panic at her slip-up. She's admitted something she didn't want me to know. I refuse to let it pass without being discussed.

"Caroline, how do you feel?" I soften my voice as I walk towards her.

"This isn't about me," her voice is so small. "I asked you those questions first."

"You already know the answers to them, Caroline. Why else would I have saved your life multiple times? Or have paintings of you crowding my study? Or even bother to remain in Mystic Falls?"

She looks at me now and I can see a haze of genuine flattery clouding her vision. Her lips part and beckon me towards them. I can't stop myself from taking the next few strides towards her and stroking my hand against the faint red mark on her neck that shows how my anger got the best of me.

Ever so slightly I press my lips to hers. She stiffens when she feels the pressure of our lips together and I wait to hear the loud smack of a delicate hand connecting with my cheek, and to feel the slight sting afterwards. But then she starts to relax and her eyes flutter close as I kiss her bottom lip, placing my other hand on the small of her back.

I can't explain how wonderful it feels to kiss the girl who smells of lilacs and freesia. I hear a short pleasurable sigh escape her lips and I pull her closer to me, wanting to feel the smoothness of the red silk against my black cotton t-shirt.

But then her body goes rigid and before I can catch my bearings I'm flying over the couch, colliding with the coffee table. The wood gives on the left side and splinters into dozens of little pieces, some of which find a home in my lower back. I groan as I feel the wood piercing my flesh.

Caroline stares at me with wide eyes. She places a hand to her lips and begins to pace. "Oh no, no, no," she mutters, drumming out a rhythm with her feet as she walks back and forth.

"What did I do?" She speaks as if she's unaware I'm lying here in a mass of splintered wood.

"I'll tell you what you did," I say to her. "You broke my favourite coffee table." I gingerly ease myself away from the mess and begin to pick at the wood that's attached itself to my elbows.

"That thing has been in my family for centuries you know," I tell her, but she doesn't hear. She just keeps pacing.

"I shouldn't have done that. But I did. And I liked it? No, I didn't," she stops and looks at me. I raise my eyebrow, puzzled. "Oh my gosh, I did didn't I?" she continues.

"You can't have feelings for him. This is wrong. This is very wrong! How could it be possible?"

"Haven't you heard the saying opposites attract, love," I interrupt. She fixes her eyes on mine, examining me. I watch her expression change from grief to confusion and then to something else that I'm not quite sure of.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

I'm completely baffled by her question. "Why am I doing this to you?" I repeat in comical disbelief. "I don't recall holding a stake to your heart and demanding you care for me, love. In fact, I doubt I could compel you if I tried, you're right stubborn."

"This isn't a joke Klaus!" she shouts at me.

"I never said it was." I push myself off of the ground wincing as a wooden shard shifts further into a groove in my back. I reach around to pull it out before I say anything further to her. "You want to know why you feel this way?" She rolls her eyes defiantly in my direction.

"It's because I'm not like those fools you call friends. All your little chums are familiar with giving Miss Mystic Falls what she wants because of her overbearing personality. You're a caregiver, my dear. You enjoy fixing broken things."

She laughs at this. "Oh please," she huffs.

"It's the truth. And I'm a challenge for you. I infuriate you, but that only draws you towards me. You care about me for the same reason I care about you," I tell her.

She places her hands on her hips and resumes the same annoyed disposition she had when she first entered the house. "Oh yeah? And what reason is that?"

"You believe there is goodness in me, and you make me feel as though I still possess a bit of my humanity."

"Bullshit"

"I've never lied to you, Caroline. I tried to lie to myself about the way I feel about you, but I don't want to do that anymore."

Once again I cross over to her.

"This isn't right," she whispers and places her hands against my chest.

"I'm arrogant and impulsive, I admit. Perhaps what's right is having you near to push me into an antique wooden table when I'm wrong," my face hovers near hers.

Her mouth gradually lifts into a smile and I read it as a token of encouragement. I let my lips trace a path from her jaw to her neck, planting delicate kisses to her collarbone. She tilts her head to the side giving me more room to play with and I smile at her.

I let my lips engulf the smooth pale skin along her décolletage, delicately creating circles that cause her to shudder with delight. Every swirl of my tongue causes her heart to pick up just a bit. Her hands rest on my waist and slide towards my abdomen, causing my t-shirt to rise above my hips.

And then suddenly, I find myself pressed against the limestone wall near the fireplace. She pins my hands above my head as she stares into my eyes with a hunger I've never seen before, and I am no stranger to hunger.

I welcome the beguiling smile that spreads across her lips. "Careful love," I whisper to her, "You don't want to start something you aren't able to finish." I rip my hands from her grasp and we're moving again, hurtling towards the ivory piano in the corner in a flurry. I push her against the beautiful instrument and the keys sound against her weight, plunking out a noisy tune that expresses our forbidden coupling.

I hover above her, fervently kissing her supple lips while her legs gradually wrap around me, bringing me in. She spreads her hands out against the sleek wood of the piano and shifts, pinning me underneath her as she straddles me between her legs. The piano groans at the abrupt movement.

Heh, never did I think Mystic Fall's crown beauty would be so feisty. "Watch it pet, you've already broken my table, don't add the piano to that list." I wonder why Tyler would ever in his right mind high-tail it out of here without taking her with him.

"You always want all the control," she purrs, flashing a catlike grin at me. She leans over to trace her tongue along my bottom lip and then she's gone.

I cover my face with my hands and groan. "Really Caroline, that's how you're going to leave me?"

"I'm still here," her voice sounds as if it's coming from the doorway. "If you want..." she hesitates.

"I don't do well with ultimatums," I call out through the gaps in my fingers, though I know she is already well aware of this. If she came here hoping to seduce me into giving in, then I must commend her for her efforts, but I will have to decline. However, her body's reaction to me speaks more than her mouth ever could. I know I am not the only one who got caught up in the excitement.

"Klaus please, help us with Silas." The pleading in her voice unnerves me. If it were anyone else asking me I would have dismissed the idea without a second thought. But I could never do that with Caroline, which is probably why they sent her over here.

"What's in it for me?" I tease her, placing my elbows on the surface of the piano so that I can stare at her.

"How about a life without your dead family members harassing you?" She counters, rolling her eyes.

"Now Caroline, you didn't put very much thought into that one. You forget the other two dead siblings I have roaming around various parts of this quaint town."

She places her hands on her hips and sticks her tongue out at me. Oh, how I wish she was closer when she did so. I would've taken advantage of the gesture. "Fine, what do you want?"

I smirk, and raise my right hand to play with the stubble on my chin. She's really backed herself into a corner now. "You," I tell her simply.

She raises an eyebrow and shifts uncomfortably. "What do you mean?"

"I want you, love. I want you to stop denying that you care nothing for me and start acting on the feelings you try to bury in the pit of your stomach."

"You're being ridiculous, Klaus," she objects, shaking her head in disbelief. "There is nothing between us."

"You call what just happened nothing," I scoff. "Were you experiencing something else?"

"I'm with Tyler," she counters.

"Then go be with Tyler," I wave her off. "And leave me to my book." I get up from where I sit on the polished wooden piano and walk towards the couch. I look down at the splayed open book on the floor, _A Tale of Two Cities_. I've already read it about a dozen times, and yet the words always seem fresh.

"Klaus...what you're asking—"

"—Is not outrageous," I interject. "You are asking me to risk my life to take down a monster with the power to shape-shift into anyone I have known throughout my many years of existence. I am an Original, but this _man_ is like nothing I have ever seen before. If I get involved in this, I am not doing it for my own well-being; I am doing it for you." I lean down to pick the book up and turn to face her.

She nervously grabs a strand of her hair and starts to twine it around her finger, bringing it towards her mouth to shield the doubt in her eyes.

"What's between us...it's...confusing," she sighs. "I can't just hand you my heart like it's a piece of food or something I want you to try. This is serious. Us...together...it could change everything I have ever known. You've hurt so many people."

"So what then, Caroline? You expect you can come around here, get your fill of me, and then walk off pretending like nothing happened."

She looks at me sternly and a flash of anger crosses her face. "Klaus, none of this should have happened!"

"But it bloody did. So what will you do now, pet?" I say spitefully. I walk around the couch clapping the book against my palm, looking at her with raised eyebrows. I hate how she affects me. I hate how deeply she gets under my skin. This girl with her beautiful blond waves and pouty lips, all I want to do is wrap her in my arms and run away with her. Where was she 800 years ago when I wasn't as volatile as I am now? It would have been easier to charm her then, to win her over with regal poise and live contentedly with her.

"Give me some time to work out whatever this is," she whispers.

I sigh deeply, not the response I wanted, but I will take it for now. "I will help you, Caroline, but don't expect much."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow I thank all of you for your interest in this story. I am beside myself to see how many people followed/favourited after the first chapter. I apologize for the long wait, I had to refresh my memory by watching some past episodes in season 4. **

**I want to stress that this story will have little to do with the entire plot of the series. Meaning...I do not plan to focus on anyone other than Klaus and Caroline and will loosely follow events. My interest is in their relationship, so while some things will follow the story line, others will move around or will completely ignore it.**

**Enjoy :)**

Two

* * *

The leather of the piano bench squeaks as I shift my weight, moving away from the instrument in front of me to pensively consider my situation. I can't bear anymore of these little powwows with the Salvatore brothers. Is this really what they do when a supernatural force threatens to disrupt their little town? Sit around the bloody fire like pilgrims and talk through every possible dilemma. I'm a man of action and if I have to endure anymore sarcastic dribble and shifty eyebrow wiggling from Damon Salvatore, I will rip his heart right from his chest. I thank my stars they've been away on some treasure hunt for the cure and that rabid doppelganger Elena.

I refuse to believe this is how they dealt with things when I was the villain everyone quaked in their boots from. Why can't we just give the man the cure he wants, watch him lose his immortality and sever his head from his neck? Problem solved.

Or at the very least, use the Bennett witch to subdue Silas. Isn't that what they are they for, to restore the natural balance of the world?

"The 21st century is responsible for a multitude of quirky inventions, but a good witch is very hard to come by in this era," I sigh to myself.

I rise from the bench and glide my hand along the piano keys as I stroll towards the couch. I need to get my hands on that cure. I'd rather it in my possession so I can decide what to do with it. That little vile has the potential to be quite the bargaining chip.

The door swings open and I hear the click of thick-wedged heels against the hardwood floor. _Two visits in such a small time_ I wonder.

"I've done as you asked, Caroline," I call out before turning to face her. "No need to patronize me any further."

"And?" she questions with a pout.

"And, your mates can fill you in on the rest."

"What about the cure?" She walks towards me with her hands folded across her chest and an aggressive glint in her eyes.

"What about it?" I shrug, leaning against the arm of the supple leather chair. "Should I be gallivanting all over America in search of this illustrious cure like that lovesick fool and his manic girlfriend? You know I rarely ever do my dirty work myself," I gleam at her.

She looks at me a little too seriously. Her teeth clench and it takes me a little too long to take the sternness of her jaw as a cautionary signal. Before I have time to react her arm is around my throat, strangling my windpipe in a vice-like grip.

"Silas," I hiss and wince as I feel the pressure increase on my larynx.

"Fine of you to notice," the imposter responds in a tone so unlike the testy blond I've come to know. "If I were you Niklaus, I would take a greater interest in finding that cure."

"The cure has nothing to do with me. I am not threatened by you."

I'm spun around to look the clone of Caroline Forbes in the face. Everything about this impersonating body is spot-on; from the long, golden lashes to the light brown freckle beside her left eyebrow. My eyes glance down at the hand that isn't wrapped around my throat and bulge fearfully as I notice the white oak stake in its grip.

"Make it something that has to do with you," is the last thing that said to me before the stake sinks into my back and snaps at the force.

"Mind those splinters, Klaus. Wouldn't want them getting to your heart," the monster chirps and I watch it walk away in fitted blue jeans while I sink to the ground, huddling over in pain.

...

* * *

I claw at my bare back only to find that every shift of my body brings the splinters closer and closer to the pumping muscle near the center of my chest. Is this how I will die—unravelled by the unassuming guise of that shape-shifter? I refuse to believe it. I swing my right arm towards my back once again and growl as I feel the splinters slide a centimeter over.

A jarring ping emanates from my cell phone that rests on the edge of the new glass coffee table I procured to replace the one that broke. The sound taunts me. I've already tried to reach for the phone, but every step was agonizing and every breath brought the splinters closer to their intended destination.

I stay crouched on my knees with sweat beading along my hair-line and dripping down the side of my face. I can hear the cackling laughter of loneliness echoing in my ears. I don't know if anyone will stumble upon my hunched form and the thought of someone swinging by for a spot of afternoon tea and a chat is laughable. The realization that I am completely alone is almost as painfully crippling as the white oak shards impaled in my back.

I bow my head, trying to recollect my reserve before I attempt to use my nails to pry out the damage. I'm too immersed in my own whirling thoughts of defeat to hear the soft pitter-patter of feet against the floor.

"Why do you even have a phone?" The scowled voice hits me like a blow to the mouth.

"Get out!" I roar, rising to my feet.

"What is wrong with you?" she asks bewildered as she stops in her tracks.

"I told you already, I don't know where the cure is," I spit.

I watch as Caroline raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? I didn't talk to you today. And why are you all sweaty?"

I can tell nothing by just looking at her. Silas had no discernible flaws when he assumed the image of the high-maintenance blond I've come to adore, so I can't rely on my eyes to find out whether the person standing before me is actually Caroline. Judging by the tone of her voice she seems genuinely confused.

"What happened to my coffee table?" I test her.

"Klaus, really..."

"Answer me!" I tell her forcefully.

She scowls and irritatingly folds her arms across her chest. "It broke," she states pointedly, pushing out her lips to show me how ridiculous she believes I sound.

"How?" I press her for more information.

Her blue eyes drop to the floor and she inspects the wood under her feet like she's interested in the different gradations of brown. "I pushed you..."

"Why?" My jaw is taut with anticipation.

"Because you kissed me, ok!" she yells, whipping her head to glare at me.

Without meaning to a heavily relieved sigh bursts from my lips, "Caroline." I have never felt more pleased to see the bright-eyed girl with the feisty temper.

Her expression shifts from anger back to confusion. "What is going on, Klaus?"

"Well it seems that you came at the perfect time. Silas stabbed me with a white oak stake while disguised as you and now I need you to pry the splinters out of my back."

"Silas?" She questions.

"Yes. Silas wearing your face."

"Where did he get the stake from?"

A puff of hot air bursts from my lips and I hang my head in annoyance. There are a lot more pressing matters to attend to than figuring out where Silas procured a white oak stake. "I didn't get a chance to ask," I sigh.

"And you want me to dig it out of you?" She presses, further pushing more of my buttons.

"Caroline, I believe that was the first thing I said."

"What's in it for me?" My teeth clench at her boldness. She is purposely using my own words against me. Is she really about to give me a proposition? Silly girl, trying to get me to bend to her will.

"I don't have the time..." I begin.

"You're right, you don't have time because one wrong move and those splinters trapped in your back will poke at your black heart. So," she gives me a cheeky smile. "If you want me to help you, then you have to agree to let Tyler come back."

My ears burn once I hear her request. Even though my hands were around her neck the last time she mentioned that wretched wolf's name in my presence, she still continues to fight for him. Did the other day completely slip her mind? She is mad. Allow the traitor to waltz back into Mystic Falls unscathed? This is too much, even for me. "No bloody way."

"It's a small price to pay to save your life," she counters.

I straighten my back and arch my brow at her. "You're asking me to let that conspiring mutt back here and expect me to shrug my shoulders and agree because I have splinters in my back?"

"Like I said, it's a small price to pay."

"A small price to pay is a handful of coins. A small price to pay is a drop of my blood! I eliminate threats, I do not welcome them with open arms," I hiss, seething at the idea of Tyler Lockwood strutting down the streets of Mystic Falls with her clinging to his arm, while I must sit back and allow him to keep filling his lungs with air. I could lie to her, but that would distance her from me.

"You've already done enough, Klaus! You killed his mother!" she yells.

"After he attempted to kill me!" I roar. "You do not bite the hand that feeds you! And let me tell you a bit of a secret, pet," I spit at her. "If I die, you die with me!"

Her mouth forms into a tight line and she stares at me wide-eyed.

"Guess whose blood changed Katerina Petrova," I add with a growl in my voice.

She cups either side of her face with her hands and relents. It seems she isn't ready to die either. "What do you want me to do?" she sighs.

I open my mouth to tell her that I have some tweezers in the back room that she could use to dig into the suture, but then I realize I no longer feel any pain. In fact I am on my feet, with my back erect and I feel nothing. I am in complete awe.

"I don't feel it anymore," I tell her mystified.

"What?"

"I don't feel it. Check my back and tell me if you see anything."

I hear her grimace as I turn my wound towards her. Her hands gingerly rest on my skin and I feel her fingers gliding along the scrapes to look me over like a medical practitioner.

"There is nothing there," she finally says.

"There never was a stake," I say softly to myself. There never was a bloody stake; it was all in my head. It took the heated exchange of words with the woman before me to realize that. I've been deceived and manipulated.

Me!

Am I not a master manipulator myself? I should have seen through Silas' little antics. The pain felt so indescribably real. "How is it possible?" I wonder to myself.

"You helped me to see sense, Caroline. I thank you," I look to Caroline with sincerity wrapping around my words. I can count how many times I have ever thanked anyone on one hand. The words don't come easily to me and taste like wet chalk. She dismisses my gratitude with an impatient wave of her hand.

"All we did was fight."

"A reoccurring theme with us," I smirk, welcoming the charming arrogance that gradually oozes back into my body.

I take a couple of steps towards her and she abruptly puts out her hand. "Klaus, don't," she warns.

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't come any closer."

I fold my hands across my heart to feign disappointment. "You do me wrong, pet. I am merely trying to express my gratitude. You won't take my words as genuine; perhaps my actions would be better received."

She clenches her fist and waggles an imposing finger at me. "You think you're such a playboy. Not everyone melts at the sound of your pompous accent. You can keep your actions to yourself!" She huffs and strides towards the couch to plop down on the cushion. "I came here to ask for a favour, not to do whatever it is on your century-old mind."

Behind her head I grin at her. Silas could never match the spice that is Caroline Forbes. If the devil kept talking I would've been able to figure out something was wrong.

"You've asked quite a lot of me lately."

"I just saved your life," she retorts.

"My life was never in danger. My sanity was," I correct her.

"Whatever," she pouts, propping her legs up on the glass table. "Will you help me?"

I pick up my t-shirt from the floor and slide it over my head. "Depends what you're asking."

She removes her feet from atop the table and turns around on the cushioned sofa to face me. Her eyes are dark with frustration. "Well the short story is that I went to pick up my dress for prom today and found out that someone already got to it—that somebody being Elena."

I scoff as her trivial dilemma reaches my ears. I suppose that means that the Salvatores and their unruly lover are back. "And?"

"And," she stresses. "She stole it. She stole _my_ dress so she could wear it to prom instead of me."

"I don't see how this concerns me."

Her eyes turn fiery at my reaction. I don't sympathise with her plight and this irritates her. "You are centuries old. Surly at one point of your life you acquired a dress that is historically vintage yet divinely classy and dazzling."

"I'm not a fashion stylist, Caroline."

"Very cute, Klaus," she chides. "I know you collect things. You're telling me you never kept an article of clothing around as a keepsake."

I shake my head amused. I never kept any clothing from anyone I met among my many travels. What use would I have for aged silks and satins; they tell me nothing about the person they came from, except what fabric they preferred to rub against their skin. Love letters say far more than any garment ever could.

"No, Caroline...but that isn't to say Rebecca isn't guilty of coveting such goods." Some of her things are away in a room near the back of the house.

Caroline's eyes perk up and she grins mischievously. I stretch an arm out towards her and she leaps over the couch to grab it. "She won't take too kindly to you rifling through her things," I warn her.

Caroline rolls her eyes and snorts to show her indifference. "She'll get over it."

...

* * *

I recline in a settee, twirling a pen between two fingers while I stare up at the ceiling at the mosaic of coloured tiles. I wanted it to look like the night sky. It turned out like a storm-riddled fall day. Surprisingly, I like more. "Are you quite finished?" I call out towards the closed-door in front of me. "We've been here for nearly an hour with you trying on five different dresses and finding something wrong with all of them."

I think back to the last one she came out with, it was disturbingly frilly. She looked like the understudy for Marie Antoinette. I bit my cheek to stop from laughing.

"I don't understand why you couldn't call up your little witch friend to sit through all of this," I whine. As tantalizing as I may find her, I grow weary of watching her pull dresses on and off behind closed doors. Perhaps if she allowed me the whole experience I wouldn't be so bored.

"I told you," her voice comes through the door cracks. "It's a surprise. I don't want anyone else to see. I'm coming out."

I hear the door swing open and I drop my head, awaiting the sight of the blond perfectionist in yet another dress that she will have something to fuss over. When she steps into my line of sight my jaw goes slack. The gown is gossamer and hugs her from her torso to her waist where it falls wistfully into a pool of shimmery evergreen fabric at her feet. She's pinned her hair up and her neck has never looked more inviting.

There's a simple satin strap wound around her right wrist and when she moves her arm it pulls the fabric of the skirt with her, making it open up like a Venetian fan.

"This is the one right?" she smiles, turning so I can see the deep-v that cuts off at her lower back.

I involuntarily rise to my feet. "You look ravishing," my voice is husky. I can't contain the yearning that affects it.

A sweet crimson blush colours the apples of her cheeks when she turns to face me. "Thank you," she replies shyly.

I stand in front of her and lean to whisper in her ear, "Who will be taking you to this prom?"

I hear her heartbeat increase. "No one."

"It would be my pleasure, you know," I breathe as I run a hand along the dress to rest on the exposed skin on her lower back.

"It wouldn't be a good idea," she replies in a tone quickly drowning in the sexual tension that pervades us.

"Ah, nothing worthwhile ever starts out as a good idea," I growl against her neck. I graze my teeth playfully against her jaw line and relish in the hiccups of her heartbeat and the taste of her skin.

* * *

**A/N: Cliffhanger...I know. **


End file.
